


Birthdays

by TuppingLiberty



Series: Organa's Organics [23]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, POV Alternating, Past Abuse, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Teen Angst, We may all need a hug, cuz we've got extra fluff at our table, did anyone order some fluff, the fluffiest of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four stories, each told from one of the Smith-Dameron's point of view, around the theme of birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amelia's Big Day

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something a little new on the farm: I really wanted to get into some of the other character's heads, so each chapter of part 23 will have a different POV. 
> 
> Chapter 1 notes:  
> CW: Vomiting/stomach flu (once upon a time, such a thing would have made me queasy to read, so there you go.)
> 
> Hopefully Amelia's use of the terms Daddy-Poe and Daddy-Finn in her head won't be confusing to anyone.

Buli was licking her hair again, grooming her, Daddy-Finn called it. She opened her eyes, smiling at the kitty who liked to sleep on her shoulder. Buli stretched, then curled herself into Amelia’s neck, pawing at her nightgown, rubbing her head against Amelia’s jaw and purring. Amelia loved waking up like this, cuddling with Buli in the morning, even though she was what Daddy-Finn called a morning person and liked to spring out of bed right away. Daddy-Poe always grumbled in the morning. 

“It's January 4th, Buli-baby.  Do you know what that means? It's my birthday,” she said to the cat, who meowed in ecstasy when she scratched under her chin.  Amelia giggled. She could see from her bed that it was still dark, which meant she should probably wait until one of her daddies came to wake her up and not the other way around. She continued to pet the cat until a soft knock sounded at her door, and she turned to see Daddy-Finn standing there. A smile broke out on his face at the sight of her snuggled up with Buli. Amelia curled her toes; Daddy’s smiles always made her feel like she'd just taken a sip of hot cocoa.

“Good morning, birthday girl!” He walked into the room, blood testing kit in one hand, other held behind his back.

Amelia sighed resignedly, sitting up and holding out her hand for the test, then giggled when Daddy just took the hand and bowed over it with great ceremony, revealing a plastic crown from behind his back. He placed it on her head, and she clapped. “Does this mean I’m the princess, Daddy?”

Daddy laughed, one of Amelia’s favorite sounds in the whole wide world, except for maybe both of her daddies laughing together. “This means you get to be Queen for the day, sweet pea!” He began to run through the blood test as he continued to talk.  Amelia liked that, too. He never made a big deal out of this, not like at school. She didn’t have to test very often at school but she had to go to the office to do it, and the walk there and back was always torture, pointing out that she was different than everyone else when she just wanted to blend in. And someone always had to walk with her, just in case, and no one ever volunteered. “So, Queen, what would you like to do for dinner tonight?”

Amelia thought as Daddy ran the blood test strip through the machine. She popped out of bed, excited by the possibilities. “Could we go to Olive Garden, Daddy?  Please? Pleeeeeease?”

Daddy wrinkled his nose a bit, but responded, “Sure, sweet pea.”  Then his brow furrowed as he read the number on the test strip. “Blood sugar’s a little on the low side today, Amelia. Make sure you eat some extra raisins today with breakfast?”

“Sure, Daddy,” Amelia said carelessly, beginning to look through her closet for a birthday outfit. He joined her, helping her pick bright green leggings, a magenta skirt, and a t-shirt proclaiming “Rainbows make me smile!”

“Okay, time for teeth and insulin, let’s scoot before Meghan gets in the bathroom.”

Amelia danced out happily.  Her family always smiled at her when she did that - Daddy-Poe said she’d rather dance someplace than walk. That was true, Amelia reflected. She wasn’t allowed to run in the house, and dancing was the next best thing. In the bathroom, Amelia stopped, dropping her jaw at the beautiful drawing of Threepio attached to the mirror.  ‘Happy 6th birthday, Amelia!’ was written along the bottom, though she had to ask Daddy to verify what all the words were. Before Daddy could stick her with her insulin, she walked back out of the room until she was out of sight of Daddy, then ran the rest of the way to  knock on Meghan’s door just like Anna did on Elsa’s door.

“Come in,” came Meghan’s muffled voice, and when Amelia threw open the door, Meghan was at her closet, picking out clothing for the day as well.

Amelia raced across the room - breaking the no running rule again with no regrets - and launched herself at Meghan, hugging her around the waist with enough force to knock the crown off her head. “Meggy, I love it! I love it so much! It’s my horse and I love it so much! Thank yoooouuuuu!”

Meghan knelt to pick the crown up, staying on Amelia’s level to put it back on her head. “You’re welcome, squirt. Or should I say, Your Majesty? Happy birthday, Amelia.” She hugged Amelia, and Amelia melted into it. Meghan was always more hesitant to hug Amelia back than her daddies were. She felt Meghan’s hand pat her on the back, Meghan’s signal that she was ready for Amelia to let go, and Amelia did, happy. 

Daddy-Poe poked his head into Meghan’s room. “How’re my girls this morning?”

Meghan smiled and gave him a little wave, and Amelia danced over to grab Daddy’s hand. He grunted, but picked Amelia up, settling her on his hip and placing a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Daddy, did you see what Meghan gave me for my birthday?”

“No, nugget,” he said, winking at Meghan. “Why don’t you show me?” 

After she did just that, Daddy gave her her insulin and urged her to brush her teeth, then helped her pull the picture from the mirror and put it on her wall in her room.

She lingered in her room, rearranging her stuffies on her bed. Daddy sat down, patting the blanketed space beside him. She crawled up and put her arms around him, squeezing partially into his lap. He smelled like the farm, like the outdoors and leather. “What's wrong, nugget?”

“Do I have to go to school on my birthday?” she mumbled into his chest.

She could hear concern in his voice. “Is everything okay at school? How's recess been recently?”

She clenched her little hands together, unsure of what to say. Everyone had told her she was too mean at recess, so she tried to play nicer, but now no one really gave her a chance. She liked school, she liked reading time, and she liked the bubbly Miss O’Brien, but it was such a lonely place. “Fine, Daddy.”

“Well, Amelia, we have to go to school every day, it's one of the rules. Besides, you _just_ got back from winter break.” Amelia sighed heavily, and Daddy smiled down at her.  “Before you know it, it will be summer break. You get to hang out on the farm this summer!”

She smiled up at him. “I wish it were summer right now!”

He kissed her forehead. “Me, too. Winter is the pits, huh?”

“The super pits!” Daddy laughed, and lifted Amelia to the floor. 

“Sweet pea, you ready?” Daddy-Finn called up the stairs.

“She's coming, babe,” Daddy-Poe called, and Amelia hurried to catch up with him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Daddy-Finn held up a plate to show to Amelia. Her eyes widened. “Mickey Mouse pancakes?”

“Buckwheat with blueberries, on the special plate, sweet pea, just for you.” 

After breakfast, Daddy-Poe  _ and _ Daddy-Finn  _ and _ Meghan took Amelia to school, where maybe she lingered in their hugs for a little longer than normal. When she finally released Daddy-Finn, she took off her crown and handed it to him, thinking still about wanting to fit in at school. “Will you keep it safe for me, Daddy?”

“Sure thing, sweet pea.” He kissed her on the forehead and she walked into the school by herself.

Before starting her first lesson, Miss O’Brien announced Amelia’s birthday. Amelia sort of wished she hadn’t, because now the other kids would be expecting cupcakes and Amelia had decided she’d rather have cake at home with her family.  Sure enough, there were noises of disappointment when it became clear that Amelia was being different, yet again. Miss O’Brien told them to quiet down, of course, but the damage was already done.

Thinking about being different made her tired, and Amelia leaned her chin on her hand and looked away from Miss O’Brien as she talked about numbers. Amelia’s eyes fixed, for the umpteenth time as Daddy-Poe would say, on Molly Walsh, or more specifically, on Molly Walsh’s red hair. It wasn't really red, Molly’s hair. It was the color of Amelia's favorite crayon in the crayon box, copper. It was magical. It was different than anyone else that Amelia knew. Not only was it such a beautiful color, but it hung in perfect ringlets, shining as they curled over Molly's shoulders. Sometimes Amelia felt a little like Charlie Brown, obsessed with the Little Red-Haired Girl. Except she didn't love Molly like Charlie loved the girl. She knew what love was, saw it pass between her daddies every day, even when they were mad at each other. No, Amelia wasn’t in love with Molly; Amelia was envious of Molly. She felt like Molly was everything she wasn't. Vibrant. Popular. Copper curls to Amelia's boring straight black hair. Willing to raise her hand and win praise from Miss O’Brien. Nice to everyone.  Everyone wanted to play with her on the playground, everyone wanted to be her friend.

Amelia realized she’d been staring at Molly for quite a while, a fact which Steven, who sat in the desk next to her, and who she really didn’t like, had noticed. He narrowed his eyes at her, and Amelia knew he’d probably have something to say to her later. Right now, she didn’t really care.  She fought to keep her head upright - if Miss O’Brien saw her leaned over like this she’d send her to the nurse for sure - and pay attention to the numbers.

She wasn’t really feeling better at recess, but she picked up a bouncy ball from the recess monitor and began to hit it against a wall anyway. She was getting into a rhythm, dancing and running and diving to hit her own ball, when a group of boys led by Steven stood in front of the wall to block her game. Amelia felt a little hurt near her heart when she saw Colin was one of the pack.

“You’re a freak, Amelia Smith-Dameron,” Steven said in a low voice, glancing quickly over at the recess monitor. “You don’t even have a normal last name, cuz my daddy says you don’t have a normal family.”

Amelia could feel her face flaming. “I do so,” she mumbled, arms hanging limply at her sides, but hands clenched into fists.

“You’re a freak,” he repeated, and this time the boys in the group echoed him, although Amelia didn’t think that Colin did. “No one should have two dads. No wonder you don’t have cupcakes today.  I bet no one in your family even knows how to make cupcakes. Freak, freak, freak,” Steven began to chant. “Just a little freak with two dads.”

They were closing in on her, and Amelia wasn’t sure what she should do.  She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, and worse, her stomach was heaving at the embarrassment and upset, and she looked down, trying to decide if she should run away so she could go be sick behind the bushes. Suddenly, green sparkly shoes crossed her line of vision, right in front of her, and she looked up to find her view of the boys blocked by the gorgeous copper curls Amelia would recognize anywhere.

“I have two dads, Steven,” declared Molly. “My daddy and my step-daddy.  Am I a freak?” Amelia peered out from behind the redhead, where she was amazed to see Steven taking a step back, as if he didn’t want to challenge the most popular girl in class. Molly glared at Steven. “I didn’t think so, now-”

“She stares at you, you know. All the time, like a little freak, like she  _ looooves _ you.” Steven held his ground.

Molly glanced back at her, and Amelia was stumbling for words to explain. “No, it’s just, your hair, it’s so pretty, I don’t love you, and you sit right by where Miss O’Brien stands and I  _ don’t _ love you, I swear-” Molly turned away from her again, and she cut herself off, feeling bile beginning to rise.

But amazingly, Molly was defending Amelia again. “I don’t care. She’s not a freak, Steven. Say you’re sorry, or I’m not inviting you to my birthday party.” Silence on the playground; this was the ultimate threat from Molly Walsh.  Of course Amelia had never been to a birthday party for Molly, she’d just met her this year. But her parties were already legendary among the kindergarten students.

Steven glared one final time, but backed off, mumbling an apology in Amelia’s direction before taking his posse with him.  Molly turned back to Amelia again, smiling brightly.  Amelia stared at her with gratefulness and admiration. “Thank you so much, Molly. I’m really not in love with you.”

Molly grinned at her. “My mom always says us females have to stick together,” she said, then frowned. “Hey, are you okay? You look awful pale-”

Which is as far as Molly got before Amelia leaned over, trying to dodge Molly, and threw up on the blacktop. She saw a little splash onto Molly’s pretty green shoes before she collapsed, world going black around her.

When Amelia woke up, she was laying on the cot in the nurse’s room in the office.  She could feel her finger tingling from a recent blood test.

The nurse walked in efficiently, placing a cool towel on Amelia’s forehead, which felt like bliss to Amelia. “Welcome back, sweetie. How do you feel?”

Amelia shook her head slightly. “Still feel sick. Want my daddies.” The look of horror on Molly’s face when she threw up all over her shoes kept replaying in Amelia’s head, making her want to cry.

“One of your daddies will be here any moment. We called him as soon as you came to the office.” The nurse turned away and muttered under her breath, “And knowing Mr. Smith, he’s probably breaking several traffic laws to get here.” This made Amelia smile a little. “If you feel like you’re going to throw up again, there’s a bucket right here, okay? Just rest, Amelia. Close your eyes for a bit.”

She followed the nurse’s advice, except that when she closed her eyes, the scene in the playground kept coming back to her. To fleetingly feel like she was not alone, then ruin the moment - it was too much, and combined with the feeling in her stomach, this time Amelia really did start to cry, the big, fat, silent tears that she couldn’t seem to keep in. And then she was throwing up again, and sobbing, and feeling lower than she had felt in a long, long time.

Somewhere in the blur of tears and vomit, she felt a hand on her back, strong and steady, and heard Daddy-Finn murmuring, “Shhhhh, sweet pea, shhhhh, it’s going to be okay.” She collapsed on her side, letting her Daddy comfort her. When her tears had quieted, she felt Daddy take the wet towel and wipe her mouth, then give her back one last rub. “I’m going to be right back, okay, sweet pea? Everything’s going to be alright, my little Queen.”

She heard the adults talking in the doorway. The nurse, to Daddy: “Her blood sugar was low, but that’s to be expected after throwing up. Even with your low reading this morning, I think we’re looking at a stomach flu, not something related to her condition. However, you should continue to monitor it carefully as the flu passes through her, and keep some Pedialyte handy if it dips too low.”

A shaky sigh from Daddy. “Thank you, Helen, for contacting me so quickly. I know I can be a pain-”

“Ma’am?” Amelia half opened her eyes at the sound of Molly’s voice. “I volunteered to bring Amelia’s lunch and backpack to the office because she’s going home.”

Daddy took the backpack from her. “Oh, thank you, …”

“Molly, hello. Are you one of Amelia’s daddies?” Molly was holding out her hand to shake Daddy’s, all politeness. Despite feeling so sick, Amelia felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment at the last time she’d seen Molly.

“I am, yes. Finn Smith. Thank you again, Molly, that was very kind of you.”

“Of course I volunteered. Amelia’s my friend. I was wondering, when Amelia gets better, is she going to have a birthday party?”

Daddy hesitated, glancing back at Amelia. She had told them she didn't want to invite anyone over, which had caused both of her daddies' heads to wrinkle, but they hadn't pressed her. “I don’t know, Molly. We hadn’t really-”  


“Because if she does, can I come?” Molly’s smile was all sweetness.

Daddy looked confused, like he’d never been confronted by a little girl before. Amelia smiled a little. “Uh, maybe that’s something we should ask Amelia?”

Molly scooted past Daddy before either adult could stop her. “Hi Amelia. I hope you feel better soon.”

“You’re not mad at me for throwing up on your shoes?” Amelia managed to ask, stomach feeling slightly unsteady again, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the flu or her own awkwardness.

Molly laughed that off and sat beside Amelia on the cot. She wiped some of Amelia’s sweaty hair away from her cheek. “Can I tell you something?” she whispered. Amelia nodded. “I like to stare at your hair, too. You look different than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life. And I want to be your friend, if you want to be mine.” She said the last part very quietly, as if she expected Amelia to reject her.

Amelia was confused. “Why? You’re friends with everyone else already. Why be friends with the freak?”

Molly gave a little half shrug. “You’re different. And you’re not a freak. And I have been wanting to ask you for awhile but you always seemed so happy by yourself. I was hoping if we were friends you could show me how to be so good at four square, so I could,” and Molly leaned in to whisper this directly into Amelia’s ear, “kick Steven’s butt.” Amelia giggled a little, and Molly laughed.

“Molly, you need to return to class,” the nurse called from the doorway.

“See you later, alligator,” Molly said, giving her one last sunny smile before turning around.

“After awhile, crocodile,” Amelia returned as strongly as she could. She didn’t feel so bad about throwing up on Molly’s shoes anymore, although it was still embarrassing. Amelia didn’t know that years later, at her own wedding, Molly would use the anecdote to embarrass her again in her Maid of Honor speech, but this time Amelia would laugh, and pretend to throw the strawberry from her champagne at Molly. No, all Amelia had right now was a burgeoning feeling around her heart like maybe everything was going to be okay. 

Daddy came back to her bed, helping her sit up and wrap her arms around his neck. As he carried Amelia and her stuff out of the school building, she whispered in his ear, “Daddy, could we invite Molly over to spend the night when I’m feeling better?”

Her daddy looked relieved, which puzzled Amelia. “Of course, sweet pea. I think that sounds like a great idea.” He buckled her into the car, then kissed her cheek. “Try to get some rest on the way back to the farm, Amelia.” He slipped into the driver's seat.  


Amelia giggled, suddenly, one of those delirious overtired giggles. She met her daddy’s eyes in the rear view mirror and he arched a brow in inquiry. “Looks like I got to stay home on my birthday after all, Daddy.”


	2. Kintsugi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meghan is overwhelmed, and not necessarily in a good way, by what she has gained by being a Smith-Dameron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains talk of Meghan's past emotional abuse

“Happy birthday, dear Meghan, Happy birthday to you!” When the family stopped singing, Amelia interrupted the silence around the dining table with “and many more, on channel four!” and everyone laughed. “Molly taught me that!”

Meghan grinned down at her, ruffling her hair. “Of course she did.  I think you learn more from Molly than from Miss O’Brien,” she teased.

Amelia’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, I learn so much from Miss O’Brien too!”

Finn, Poe and Meghan all laughed again. “I know, squirt.”

Birthdays were still a novelty to Meghan.  Big Sam hadn’t bothered after Meghan’s mother died, too long ago for her to remember. She loved her last birthday, with her whole farm family celebrating her choice to adopt her true name and gender. She liked to think she’d thrown off the vestiges of both Sam and Big Sam, but every so often, and sometimes more often than not, something would remind her of one or the other of them. Like celebrating a birthday.

This time, she’d asked her dads if they could just have a small family dinner, at home, just the four of them together, for her birthday. She was going to hang out with some friends at the mall this Saturday to celebrate too, but she wanted some time with Finn and Poe and Amelia. She wasn’t quite sure why, knew that as a fifteen year old she was supposed to be branching away from her family, but maybe that was because all she’d ever done before was run from family. To protect herself.

Poe had begun to slice the chocolate cake, and Amelia was sitting up, eager, probably more eager than herself, which made Meghan smile. Finn’s arm rested easily around the back of Poe’s chair, taking in Meghan’s interactions with Amelia with something like pride in his eyes. “You were right, Meghan, this is an excellent way to celebrate your birthday,” he said, eyes bright with obvious paternal love. 

Meghan smiled tremulously, reminded again of Big Sam’s horrible taunting voice, and anxiety made her heart rate creep up a bit.  _ Don’t do this now _ . It was Meghan’s voice in her head, but it was Big Sam’s words, and it made it worse. She continued to smile, nod, and laugh when Amelia smeared chocolate all over her face accidentally, but internally she was trying to wrangle her thoughts. She centered on Finn, watching him lightly touch Poe’s arm, or lovingly and exasperatingly wipe Amelia’s face.  _ I am not broken. _ Meghan’s voice, Finn’s words. It was practically her mantra. She felt the anxiety calm, at least for a bit. Why did it feel like sometimes she was barely holding together?  She’d been at the farm for over a year. She couldn’t have created a better situation if she’d sat down herself to write it out. She had so much to be grateful for-

“Presents now?!” Amelia cried, obviously buzzing a little from the chocolate, less from the sugar than at the rare chance to eat it.

“Let’s do it!” Meghan responded, trying to match her enthusiasm and cover her internal conflict.

Amelia placed a present in front of her, one that had obviously been wrapped with the help of Amelia, if the amount of tape was any indication. “It’s from me!” Amelia exclaimed.

Meghan began to pull at random tape strips, but paused, feeling too much sisterly love for Amelia to let the opportunity for teasing pass. “Hmmm, is it...a horse?” She pretended to squeeze the package as Amelia shook her head. “What about a rutabaga?”

Amelia wrinkled her nose and looked at Poe. “What’s a rutabaga?” she whispered loudly.

“Good for you,” Poe replied.

Amelia rolled her eyes and turned back to Meghan. “Open it!”

Meghan was laughing outright, now, the anxiety banished for the moment, as she opened the package. “Oh, Amelia,” she said, a little breathlessly. It was a box of high quality colored pencils, which obviously one of her dads had helped Amelia pick out, but it was the drawing included in the package that made Meghan happy. Amelia had drawn the two of them together, had written in her scrawling kindergartner handwriting ‘Happy 15th Birthday, Meghan.’ 

“Daddy said that I could try the pencils out only if I was going to make you a birthday drawing,” Amelia explained in her matter-of-fact manner. 

“I love it. I love you. C’mere, squirt.” She wrapped Amelia in a quick hug. 

Poe had walked away, using the excuse of needing water after the chocolate cake, but Meghan was pretty sure the only person in the room he was fooling was Amelia, and maybe himself. He came back from the kitchen with his face a little wet, like he’d splashed water there. It actually comforted Meghan - that was how she preferred to deal with emotions, too, by herself. But she noticed that Finn had frowned at Poe, saw him run a hand along Poe’s back when he sat back down, and whisper something in his ear, Poe shaking his head and rolling his eyes a little.  They’d been doing that a lot recently, these little pockets of friction or tension.  It had been worse in the fall, but it didn’t seem completely better yet. Meghan tried not to add it to her list of worries as she pulled the next package to her.

Opening it revealed Amtrak tickets to Tacoma, Washington, for two weekends from now, during Spring Break. “We thought you’d like to go see Aunt Jess and Aunt Rey for a little bit,” Poe explained.

“Or if you don’t want to, I’ll go happily,” teased Finn, smiling.

“No, I love it! It’s amazing! The best idea ever!” Meghan squealed, skirting around the table to hug both of her dads. “Thank you so much.”  They had talked about this before. It meant a lot to Meghan that her dads trusted her to travel alone.

She continued to unwrap, unearthing some more art supplies.

“One more,” Amelia pointed out, bringing the last present to Meghan.

She unwrapped it quickly, already feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for her family, and that niggling voice at the back of her head, the one that used Big Sam’s words, was asking her why she thought she deserved so much.  The voice only got louder when she saw what her last present was: a brand new iPhone.  She was speechless. She’d never even hinted - had made sure never to hint - that she wanted a cell phone. It was just one more thing that made her an abnormal teen, but really, that list was so long, why even bother with it? She’d very specifically never mentioned getting a cell phone to either of her dads. Ever. Because it was too much. It was too big. They’d already given her a tablet for school work, but Meghan could justify that because it was really the family’s tablet.

She managed a smile, trying to show that she was pleased when inside she was dying, just a little, and she think she passed it off because both Finn and Poe smiled back and Finn took the iPhone out of the box and showed her how to set it up. She let the process distract her.

Later, in her room, she hooked up the iPhone to charge, flipping the phone so it was face down a little guiltily. She went to her dresser, pulling away clothes until she found it - the beat up spiral bound notebook she’d bought, back when she’d been Sam/Meghan but mostly Sam. She had scrounged up bottles for the deposits to buy it at the dollar store, and it was crap, only 100 sheets of horrible quality lined paper, the lines so light at some points that the pages looked blank anyway. 16 months ago, she would have said it was her most prized possession.

She looked at the proper sketchbook Finn and Poe had given her, all the way back when her arm was broken. Thick, and luxurious, with a sturdy cover that had yet to break down despite being carried to school every day. Side by side, they looked ridiculous.  _ And which one do you deserve, Sam? _ “Meghan,” she mumbled aloud, rubbing her head, wishing she could get Big Sam’s words out of her mind. She picked up the dollar store notebook, took it with her to bed, fell asleep writing “I am not broken,” over and over on one of the weakly-lined pages.

\------------------------------

It was like the cellphone was a catalyst, and Meghan began to become hyper aware of all of the little things Finn and Poe provided her that she’d started to take for granted over the last year. When she woke up, her eyes settled first on the cellphone, still face down, then traveled to all of the objects she’d accumulated, somehow. Even the room itself, which hadn’t been decorated when she’d first arrived because of the short notice, emergency-type situation that had brought her here, was an indulgence. Finn had helped her paint it white, and over the last summer, she’d slowly added designs everywhere, making the room uniquely hers. In the house that was theirs. Finn and Poe and Amelia’s. And she’d forced herself in here, with her dramatic exit from the group home, forced herself on the hospitality of Finn and Poe and for some reason they’d decided to keep her, give her all of this, and what did she do in return? She rubbed over the pubertal inhibitor injection site. Cost them more money, in injections, in therapy, in food and clothing and art supplies, in the extra gas it took to get her to her special school that she had insisted on going to because the other schools made her nervous. And what about how Finn and Poe felt? They were so obviously in love with each other, so why was there tension between them? And why did it feel like it started shortly after Meghan got here? Once these thoughts began twisting through her head, insidious, she couldn’t stop them. Every single thing, the clothing she dressed in for school, the way Finn asked before stroking her arm as she got out of the car for school, the weight of the cell phone in her backpack, it all poked, poked, poked at her until she wanted to scream.

In the evening, after Amelia had gone to bed, Meghan tried to broach the subject with Finn and Poe. Well, not exactly  _ the _ subject. “Hey, guys?” She waited for them both to look up. They weren’t sitting next to each other on the couch, Meghan realized. “I was thinking, this summer, maybe I could get a job? Then I could pay for the cell phone bill.”

Finn smiled at her, brushing that away. “Honey, you don’t need to pay for your cell phone bill. That’s our job.”

Meghan clenched her hands, the need to hit something rising. She consciously unclenched them. She hadn’t felt the need to hurt herself in months. Her hands were important to her. She did not want to go back to her old habit of beating them bloody. “I just feel like, at 15, I should help out.”

Poe exchanged a glance with Finn, cutting Finn off before he could reply with another brushing remark. “She’s right, Finn. No, no,” waving Finn’s protest off, “not the cell phone thing. But I was working every summer well before her age.”

“Yes, but we live in a very different situation than you did growing up,” Finn said through partially clenched teeth. 

Meghan clenched her hands again. “I just want-”  _ to feel like I’ve earned all this, somehow. _ Meghan couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud, voice the thoughts she’d been having.

“You know, Meghan, we take teenagers on during the summer all the time at the farm. You could work for Organa’s,” Poe reasoned.

“She should be allowed to take the summer off, have fun, be a teenager.”

“Or,” Poe continued, ignoring Finn for the moment and keeping his eyes on Meghan, “We could pay you to keep an eye on Amelia, at least part of the time, give Nan a break midday or something like that.” 

Finn looked like he was considering the idea despite himself, despite his reservations. “That’s a possibility,” he admitted. “But I still think Meghan should be given the chance for some freedom.” 

The fact that Finn and Poe were arguing over her stupid idea to get a job made Meghan’s stomach hurt. “Um, I’ll think about it,” she mumbled, grabbing her stuff and heading upstairs.

\------------------------

The next morning, Saturday, Finn drove Meghan to Salem to hang out with her friends at the mall. 

On the way, Finn glanced over at the pensive Meghan. “I’m sorry about last night, honey. Poe and I vowed that we’d never disagree in front of you guys, but well, let me tell you, you can promise a lot of things to each other before you have actual kids.” Finn grinned, trying to show Meghan that it was a joke.

“I’m sorry I made you guys disagree, after everything you’ve done for me,” Meghan mumbled.

“What? Honey, no - that wasn’t about you, not really. Poe’s just having a bad year.”

That didn’t really make any sense to Meghan, so she didn’t respond. When they pulled into a spot in the mall parking lot, Meghan gathered her purse and coat, then paused when she saw Finn was holding out a 50 dollar bill.

“I know it won’t buy much, but I hope you can find something that makes you feel pretty, my gorgeous daughter.” Finn held it out further, and Meghan felt like she could do nothing but take it. “I love you, Meghan,” Finn murmured.

“I love you, too, Dad,” she replied, giving him a quick squeeze across the center console of the car.

She was sliding out of the seat when Finn added, “Hey, maybe after shopping, I could help you study for your driver’s permit test?”

She gave him a small smile. “Sounds good.”

Meghan walked into the building, waited at the door until she saw Finn drive away, and exited, taking a place at the nearest bus stop.

\---------------------------

The feeling that what she was doing was a horrible, terrible, no good very bad idea didn’t hit until after the train had crossed the border into Washington.  _ You fucked up _ , Big Sam echoed in her head.  _ You ran away from your problems, caused drama again, and now they’re never going to want to take you back. You done fucked up, boy. _

She’d managed to convince the man in the train ticket office to exchange her tickets for a different day, but he wouldn’t budge on the destination, so she was headed to Tacoma. If her phone was any indication, no one had missed her, yet. Finn would be attempting to pick her up from the mall soon, though. She needed to figure out what to do. As if on cue, a message from her dad popped up.

**Dad-Finn:** I’m here, outside Macy’s. If you want a little more time with your friends I’m fine waiting. Hope you’re having fun.

Meghan panicked, hit the button to make her screen go black. She shouldn’t have done this. Why? Why did she always run? Why was she like this, why couldn’t she just be better?  _ You’re not broken. _ Finn’s words, the words that would normally calm and comfort her, only made her feel worse. She forced herself through some of her calming techniques while the green of the Washington countryside passed by in a blur. Before she knew it, it was a long time later, and a series of texts and missed calls had appeared on her phone screen.

<Missed call from Dad-Finn>

**Dad-Finn:** Tried calling, are you okay?

**Dad-Finn:** Meghan, I talked to Janine’s mom, and she said you cancelled the mall trip yesterday. I’m not angry, honey, just need to know where you are. Please.

<Missed call from Dad-Poe>

<Missed call from Dad-Finn>

**Dad-Poe:** Meghan, what’s wrong? Where are you? Can come get you from wherever. No consequences, just text us back.

Each successive text made her cry, but she couldn’t face them yet. Couldn’t face the disappointment. So she dialed a different number on her phone.

“Meghan? Are you okay?” Jess’s calm voice filtered through.

“I fucked up, Jess,” Meghan mumbled.

“Where are you? Are you hurt?” This was Rey’s voice, frantic, in the background, and Jess shushed her.

“I’m fine. I’m going to be in Tacoma in,” Meghan glanced up to check the Amtrak monitor, “about a half an hour. At the train station.”

“Have you called your dads yet?” Jess’s calm voice again.

“No,” Meghan replied guiltily. “I don’t think...I don’t think they’ll want to talk to me right now. Could I stay with you, just for a little bit?”

“Of course. I’ll be at the train station waiting for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

The call had the effect of making the texts from both her dads cease, except for one last one, sent ten minutes later.

**Dad-Finn:** We love you, Meghan. No matter what.  <3  


At the train station, Jess greeted her with a quick nod, the efficient way Jess greeted everyone, and it made Meghan feel safe. “Convinced Rey to stay home, I thought you and I might take some time to ourselves?”

“That sounds okay,” Meghan replied, and they got into Jess’s car. She drove them to a scenic lookout of the Puget Sound and Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Jess stepped out of the car and Meghan hurried to follow her.

Jess sighed as she looked out at the large expanse of water, leaning her elbows on the lookout fence. “I didn’t realize, being from New Mexico, just how calming watching water can be. I like to come here a lot if a case is giving me trouble.”

Meghan turned away from Jess and looked out at the water instead, and had to agree with her. She took some breaths. She knew Jess could wait for hours for Meghan to talk, and decided to save them the time. “I shouldn’t have done this. I know it.”

Jess continued to watch the water. “Not going to lie, that’s probably the first thing you should say to your dads when they get here too.”

Meghan groaned at the thought of her dads racing up I-5. “I don’t know why my first instinct is to run.”

“I think you do.”

“Are you saying that just because I was- just because of my biological father, I should excuse myself from upsetting Finn and Poe? And probably Amelia? Oh, God.” She shuddered as Amelia popped into her head for the first time.

“I think they’ll be willing to give you a little leeway.” 

Meghan frowned. “Of course they will. I don’t deserve anything they’ve done for me.”

For the first time, Jess glanced away from the Sound and into Meghan’s eyes. “I have to admit, I’m obviously not a mother. Nor do I really want to be, because being an aunt is pretty awesome.” Meghan’s lips tipped up a bit. “But Finn and Poe do all those things for you because they chose to. They chose  _ you. _ They knew exactly what they were getting into when they did. And they get something from it in return.”

“What?” Meghan asked frantically, because she couldn’t see any time where she’d repaid them for anything.

“I had the benefit of knowing them both before they were fathers. I saw them make their vows to each other, and honestly, I didn’t think either of them could get any happier than that day. It was a little disgusting.” Jess laughed, and Meghan smiled outright this time. “But I was proven wrong when Amelia entered their lives, and then again when you did. You two, yes, both of you, make them happy. Stupidly happy. We’re all kind of sick of it, happy.”

“But they aren’t happy right now, they’ve been arguing.”

Jess’s face turned serious, but soft. “Poe’s having a hard year.”

“Finn said that, too,” Meghan said, confused.

“It’s not really something that I should talk about, but you could ask Poe about it yourself, maybe?” 

They watched the water for a bit, waves crashing against the shore. Meghan repeated her mantra in her head, not realizing she had said aloud, "I'm not broken." Jess looked over at her again, and she blushed. "It's what Finn told me once. That we're all damaged, maybe, but not broken."

Jess smiled a little. "I like that. Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?" Meghan shook her head. "You should look it up sometime, it'd be cool to do as a school project, maybe. It's a Japanese thing; my grandma had a piece in her collection. Artists who do Kintsugi take broken pottery and repair it with gold, or silver, or platinum.  The idea is, once something's broken, it's not going to be the same, but that doesn't mean that it can't be something even more beautiful.  The artists find the beauty in something damaged, _because_ it's damaged."

Meghan mulled over that idea, nodding a bit. Jess looked down to check her watch. “Listen, if we leave now, we can fight the Tacoma traffic, then the base traffic, and have a little dinner with Rey before your dads get here.”

\------------------------------------

Meghan didn’t look up from her notebook, the one from her past, when Finn and Poe entered the living room. She continued to look down, at the page where she’d written “I am not broken” until she’d fallen asleep, willing herself to believe it. She felt the couch sink on either side of her as her dads flanked her.

“Can I?” Finn’s voice was tentative, his arm raised in question, and she nodded, beginning to cry the moment he touched her back and started to rub. The touch, the request for consent, the fact that they were both here… Meghan sobbed harder.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re not mad,” Poe whispered.

She leaned into him, and he awkwardly pulled her into his lap as he might Amelia. Finn’s hand remained on her back as she felt him scoot closer. When her sobbing quieted, she whispered back, “I’m sorry. I know it was the wrong thing to do. I shouldn’t have run.”

“Can you...can you maybe tell us why you did?” Poe asked hesitantly, tucking her head under his chin. “Tell us what we can do to fix it?”

Meghan laughed humorlessly. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve a dad who thinks that this was his doing, because really it’s all my fault. Me and my fucked up head.” Her dads were silent for awhile, but Finn’s hand never stopped rubbing and Poe’s arms never let her go. “You deserved another kid like Amelia. I know she’s got problems, but they’re easy to handle. She’s doing fine. And you look to bring in another person to your family and you get me. And I drag you into my drama, into my fucked up world, by calling you that day when I ran away. And yet somehow I’ve hit the jackpot, won the lottery on adoptive parents, and you give me all of this stuff and I give you nothing, nothing in return. Except more problems.” She shuddered out a breath, then decided it would be better to just get it all out. So she let Big Sam’s words come spilling out of her. “I’m not good enough to get this kind of treatment. Kids like me deserve the dented canned veggies they sell for half price, and dollar store notebooks, and clothing filched from the lost and found at school, and to sleep on the couch so dad can have the bed because doesn’t he put food on the table and a roof over my head? And if I’m a good boy, maybe we’ll get ice cream on Friday.” She stopped, breath coming fast, and she forced herself to calm. “I guess… I guess I thought I was past what Big Sam did to me, but I’m not.”

Poe made a kind of choking sound, and Meghan sat up to look at him. “Dad?”

“If it takes you awhile, sweetie, it’s okay. If you think you’ve moved past it, and then you realize you haven't quite, it’s okay. We’ll still be here for you. It’s never a step backwards, never a step in the wrong direction, to realize you still need a little help.” Meghan noticed that Poe wasn’t looking at her, but at Finn, and Finn was nodding.

Finn cleared his throat. “Meghan, family, our family, it’s not about reciprocity. We don’t give you all the stuff we do, provide you with the opportunities we can, because we expect certain behaviors from you. We do it because we love you. And we can repeat that as often as you like.”

Poe took Meghan’s chin, drawing her gaze back to him. “And we can repeat this: you deserve everything you get. Because you’re human. You deserve the best life your parents can give you, and if you feel like you won the jackpot, well, I won’t argue with you, we are amazing.” He winked at her, and she laughed a little. “And I will go to my grave repeating this: we chose you. We absolutely chose you. And isn’t that the awesome thing about our family? We got to choose, and we chose you. Because you’re amazing. So you fit right in.”

Meghan contemplated that, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. “Does Amelia know I what I did?”

Finn answered. “Sort of. We told her that you had gotten your days mixed up and went on the train early and needed a ride back. She was really sad she didn’t get to come pick you up.” Meghan frowned, beginning to tear up again. “Spend tomorrow with her and I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“Do you guys? Forgive me, I mean.”

“Of course,” Poe murmured.

“On one contingency,” Finn said. “That we make this flight tendency a focus in therapy. Because I can handle the other stuff, I think, but honey, I can’t handle that panic again.”

Meghan slipped off of Poe’s lap and into Finn’s. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I love you.” She rested her head on his shoulder, tired.

She felt Poe’s hand on her back, heard him say softly, “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I *PROMISE* Poe and Finn are going to be alright. :) I would NOT do anything to damage their relationship. All will be made clear in the next chapter.


	3. Poe Dameron's Having a Hard Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Poe turns 37, he struggles to deal with something by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this doesn't go too dark for people. Angst WITH A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE.

**12 months ago:**

Poe watched the living room clock tick down, and stilled his fingers on the guitar strings, holding his breath as it tipped over to midnight. Nothing happened, not that Poe had been expecting a fanfare of trumpets or a punch in the face or his heart to just stop, making him collapse on the couch to be found by Finn, or Amelia, or Meghan in the morning. Normally Poe would have quelled such a morbid thought, but now, he embraced it. _That could happen now._ That was the difference that had happened at midnight. Not some big realization. Just a calm acceptance of the idea that he could die tomorrow, a fact he’d only felt surer of in Afghanistan. The seconds kept ticking away, counting down his life. He was 37 now, and there was no guarantee he’d see 38. How could he, when his parents hadn’t?

He heard the padding of bare feet on the stairs, looked up to see Finn coming down, rubbing his eyes from sleep. Poe felt a brief surge of annoyance; he’d come downstairs with the intention of not disturbing anyone as he counted down to his fate. But then he chastised himself internally; Finn almost always came to find him when he was kept up by thoughts of Afghanistan, so it’s not like he’d know this was different. Different enough that Poe couldn’t talk about it.

Poe waited as Finn sat on the couch beside him, waited as Finn wrapped an arm around him and leaned his head on his arm, and began picking on the guitar to complete the ritual. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel Finn’s warmth, seeking his husband’s comfort innately even if his mind was rebelling against it, saying Finn wouldn’t understand. His fingers automatically found the lullaby his mother sang to him when he was little.

“You played that the first night I heard you play the guitar,” Finn murmured.

Poe paused his fingers, letting the last notes resonate into the quiet room. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” Finn replied, tone telling Poe he thought Poe’s doubts were silly. “Is it something in particular?”

Poe paused, unsure if he wanted to reveal this to Finn, opened his mouth, then paused again when he realized he was contemplating keeping something from Finn. Except, this was about his parents, and he always kept his parents from Finn. His parents were his, alone. “Not really,” he lied, and the lie didn’t sit well on his tongue, because it was a real lie. He hadn’t needed to lie before; he’d normally tell Finn that he didn’t want to talk about his parents, and Finn respected that. Because Finn loved him. And he’d just lied to Finn. This was deception, and part of his mind screamed to stop and make it right. A smaller, but louder part of his mind told him to leave it be. They’d be fine. He’d be fine, keeping this from Finn.

“Happy birthday, baby.” Finn squeezed him around the waist, and yawned.

“You should go back to bed,” Poe whispered, letting his fingers continue to play the melody.

Finn shook his head sleepily against Poe’s shoulder. “Don’t like falling asleep without you by me.” Finn had closed his eyes, snuggling in against Poe.

The sight of his sweet husband on his shoulder, so vulnerable, broke past some of the defenses Poe had been building. “Okay, since you’re going to be stubborn about it,” he said, his tone teasing and light. He wasn’t quite sure where he’d pulled the levity from. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could hide this dread that was filling him from Finn. He stood, pulling Finn to his feet along the way. Finn blinked blearily, as if he’d already fallen asleep and forgotten where he was in the few seconds since he’d last talked. Poe laughed, lightly, and took Finn’s hand, leading him to the stairs. “C’mon, baby. You’re so tired.”

“Mhmm,” Finn replied. When Poe laid down, Finn immediately wrapped himself around his husband, whispering quietly into his neck, “Love you, Poe.” He was asleep before Poe could reply. Poe stayed awake, contemplated the ticking of the clock and the steady breathing of the man beside him.

**11 months ago:**

_I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory._ Hamilton’s line felt all the more appropriate now, and it circled in Poe’s head, stuck there. He felt like every single moment he was consumed with wondering how it would come. Would a snake spook BB-8 so that he fell from her and broke his neck? Would he get heat stroke, collapsing where no one noticed until his brain left him a vegetable? Would he slip on one of Amelia’s stray socks in the morning and fall down the stairs? It almost became a game. What kind of convoluted _Final Destination_ style death could he come up with next?

Poe could not admit it to himself, but the thoughts were taking their toll on him, and it was getting harder to keep it from Finn, who knew him better than anyone in the world. There was tension there now, so minuscule that he wasn’t sure Finn had noticed it, yet.

He looked in the bathroom mirror, holding up his razor. _I could slide in a patch of water, reach for the counter, accidentally grab my razor, and slice my artery._ He set the razor down. Maybe he’d grow a beard.

**5 days after that:**

Finn ran his hands along Poe’s short bearded cheeks, cupping Poe’s head and throwing his own back as Poe rolled his hips again beneath him. Poe watched his husband’s face as it contorted in the most beautiful ecstasy, and thrust up once more. When he felt Finn’s tremors begin, he pulled him back down on top of him, swallowing Finn’s shouts with his kiss. Seconds later, Finn returned the favor, as Poe came inside him. Finn continued to kiss him, the press of lips becoming less desperate and more languid and smooth as they rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms. Finn finally released Poe’s face, rubbing his smooth cheek against Poe’s rough one instead, giving a final sigh of contentment before Poe readjusted their positions so they were laying side by side.

“So you like the beard?”

Finn gazed at him, all sex-soft brown eyes and thick black lashes, still fluttering a bit. “I definitely like the beard.”

**10 months ago:**

_“I have a type, babe, and it definitely includes gray hair. So if you want to shave because it’s uncomfortable or hot or itchy, Poe, do it. But if you’re feeling insecure about your age, please know that it’s only a turn on for your husband.”_

Finn had said it to him before he’d had to leave and help Amelia get ready for her first day of kindergarten. It had been the right thing to say, but it wasn’t the Finn thing to say. Finn would have teased him, and told he was an old man, robbing the cradle for a scrumptious little thing a decade younger than him - those would have been Finn’s words, of course. But Finn had gone for reassurance, which meant that Finn knew, that Finn was picking up on the fact that Poe wasn’t alright.

Poe was picking up on it too, but now he was too far in the spiral to figure his way out of it. Except he had to figure his way out of it. He was a father now. Fathers protected their families. They didn’t feel like the life they’d once thought normal was now crumbling around them.

**9 months ago:**

Poe climbed into his truck, gripping the wheel tightly as he contemplated his part in Miss O’Brien’s assessment of Amelia. The cab was silent, but he could sense Finn looking at him, and he didn’t want to glance over and see the look of accusation on his husband’s face. He’d let this - whatever it was - this crisis cloud everything until he was neither a good father nor a good husband, but he still couldn’t see his way out.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Poe?” Finn’s voice sounded broken, and Poe instinctively reacted to it, finding a place to pull over so he could try to explain.

He was sort of shocked when his own voice came out rough, ravaged. “What’s wrong with me? Oh, just that apparently I’ve fucked up our daughter, that I’m a bad influence on one of the people I love the most.”

“You haven’t fucked up Amelia. Fuck that, Poe. _Fuck_ that. I’m not even going to talk about that anymore because seriously.  What the fuck is wrong with you?  What’s been wrong with you for the last month and a half?  Why haven’t you talked to me? Why haven’t you touched me?”

Finn sobbed, and Poe felt the sob like it had actually stabbed his heart. He collapsed over the steering wheel, holding his head in his hands. How had it come to this? Outside the cab, it began to rain again. _Perfect._

“Are you okay?  Are you sick?  Are you having second thoughts about the adoptions?  Is the farm about to go under? Is Leia sick?  Snap?  Do you...do you need a break from this, from us, from me? What is it?”

At every question, Poe flinched, the knife twisting just a little further into his heart. The only answer he could give Finn was ‘I don’t know,’ and that didn’t seem like enough, so he remained silent. When he heard the pickup door slam, though, he immediately threw off his seatbelt and raced outside. Finn didn’t do this. Finn didn’t walk away from their disagreements. Oh God, how could he have let this go so far?  Far enough that _Finn_ thought _Poe_ needed a break? Nothing could be further from the truth.

He watched Finn stalk away from the car for a few more seconds before he yelled over the downpour, “Finn, wait.” It felt like a miracle granted especially to Poe that Finn listened, that after all that Poe had done to him over the last two months, he’d stopped. “I can’t do this without you.” It wasn’t a full confession, but Poe felt lighter, immediately.

“Can’t do what, Poe?” Finn shivered as he shirt soaked through.

“Come here,” Poe said, opening his jacket for Finn. He brought his arms around his husband, trying to transfer his warmth and his love and everything he couldn’t say aloud. “I can’t do anything without you.” Poe rested his forehead on Finn’s and closed his eyes.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Poe.”

Poe almost laughed. What _wasn’t_ wrong? Where could he even begin? As he heard Finn breath shakily, though, he knew where he needed to start. “I’m sorry. I’ve been such an asshole. I’m so sorry I could ever make you think that I was done with you, with us.”

Finn’s voice was firm in his reply. “ _Tell me._ ”  

“ _I don’t know!”_ Poe finally admitted in frustration.  How could he put it into words? “I don’t know. Mid-life crisis?”

“You’re too young to be having a mid-life crisis. You’re only 37-”

Poe couldn’t stand that Finn was reassuring him once again, couldn’t stand that he’d seemed to become as fragile as one of their girls, and his frustration spiked. “My parents were 37 when they died!” he yelled. “I could die tomorrow, and leave you alone with the girls.” It was the closest he’d come to admitting the truth.

“And I could get diagnosed with colon cancer and leave you alone with the girls.  Except I get my annual physical, so I get to eliminate it from my worries for a bit. What happened to ‘living in the present is awesome?’”

Of course Finn would throw the words he’d told Meghan just the day before back at him. This is what he got for marrying a lawyer. “I just, I’m not sure if I can really do that right now.” Another truth. Living in the present was always the goal, but he seemed even farther from it than ever.

“Well, you can’t keep living your life like you think you’re going to die tomorrow, because you’re miserable and you’re making me miserable, and we already have a miserable kindergartener we need to help, so we need to adult the fuck up.” Poe felt the guilt rising in him again as these words sunk in.  “And no, I didn’t bring Amelia up because you fucked her up.  It’s not your fault...” Finn said something further about ESPN, and Denzel Washington in a suit, so ridiculous and such an obvious ploy to try and pull Poe out of this mood. He smiled, humoring Finn.

“Poe, I know I can’t just tell you ‘don’t worry about it,’ just like you can’t tell me that. What do you think would help?  Therapy?”

His mind rebelled at the idea. _Therapy? Again?_ He’d needed therapy when he came back from Afghanistan, that was true. But his life was so much better now. Why should he need to go back? However, Finn was looking expectantly into his eyes, and rubbing his back, and he felt himself say, “Maybe.” He saw relief enter Finn’s eyes, and he felt guilty as he repeated, “I can’t do this without you.” That was the truth, at least. Finn sighed into him, and they kissed, and Poe knew that he wasn’t alright, but at least he knew what to do for Finn now.

He paid particular care to touch Finn over the next few weeks, to sit next to him, to take his hand, to kiss his knuckles. And every time he did, he felt worse, because he knew he was just continuing to craft the illusion that everything was okay.

**8 months ago:**

Winter was the best time to tackle the invasive blackberry that was rampant in the Valley. It was also the type of work that suited Poe’s mood at the moment. Cutting and slicing, ripping and tearing. It meant he could snarl, and grunt, and in general not be the type of person anyone else wanted to be around.  

Poe yelled an obscenity as a particularly stubborn thorn pushed through his glove and hooked into his hand. He took his machete and hacked at the vine, until it was nothing but a splintered stump.

“Feel better?”

Poe looked up at the sound of Snap’s voice. The taller man, his oldest friend, stood next to the mangled pile of blackberry vines.

“Dude, I hate blackberry vines as much as the next farmer, but…” He trailed off, probably hoping that Poe would pick up, spill his guts. When Poe remained stubbornly silent, Snap sighed. “Rough night?” That perfect kind of understanding in Snap’s voice made Poe feel a little sick. ‘Rough night?’ was code for ‘Thinking about our time in Afghanistan again?’ It wasn’t a subject that either Poe or Snap necessarily liked to bring up lightly.

“Something like that,” Poe decided to admit.

Snap pulled on a pair of gloves and began loading blackberry branches into a cart. “You want to talk about it?”

Poe grunted, continuing to hack at the vines.

“You want to drink about it?” This time Poe laughed, despite his foul mood. Snap slapped his back.

“It’s true that we haven’t had a boys night, just the two of us, for awhile.”

\--------------------

Everything was blurry, but Poe was pretty sure Elisa had dragged him by the arm to his home’s side door. He was vaguely aware that she was cursing in Spanish under her breath at him.

Finn appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He hurried over to take Poe from Elisa. “Jesus, Poe,” he grunted. To Elisa, “Thank you. I owe you.”

Poe tried to focus on Elisa. “Hermosa, thank you,” he slurred, trying to stroke her arm and missing by a mile. Elisa gave them a short wave and left the mud room.

“Okay, baby, let’s go.” Finn poured him onto the couch, sliding his Romeos off and lifting his feet up, then leaning over to whisper near his head, “I’m going to go get you some water.”

Poe could hear worry in Finn’s voice. When he came back, he tried to reassure his husband. “‘M’okay, Finn. Just blowin’ steam off with Snap. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

“Pretty sure the ring means I get to worry all I want. Try to drink a little water, baby. You’re going to hate yourself in the morning, and we’ve got Amelia’s game.” Finn held the glass to his lips, and he took a few sips just to try and get the sad look off Finn’s face.

Poe steadied a hand to run over Finn’s hair. “Why you sad, baby?”

Finn looked away. “You missed Family Night.”

 _Shit._ _Shitshitshitshitshi-_

“Ready to fall asleep, Poe?”

Poe grabbed for Finn’s hand, found one and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Finn.” Tears were leaking out of Poe’s eyes now. He’d always been emotional, and the alcohol tended to amplify it.

Finn was shaking his head. “You obviously needed some time with Snap, it’s okay, really.” He started to detangle his fingers from Poe’s, looking like he was going to get up and leave Poe to sleep it off. All of a sudden, it was the last thing Poe wanted. He needed to figure out how to keep Finn by him. And so his drunk brain spilled out the truth, the secret he’d been keeping since July.

“I imagine my death all the time.”

Finn stopped getting up, sunk back down to his knees beside the couch. “Wha...you want to run that one by me again?”

“Like, scenarios. Like, I could die in the night of alcohol poisoning. Or I could get up to go the bathroom, stumble, and hit my head on the sink. Or-”

Even in his blurry vision, he could see Finn’s eyes were wide in the way that meant he was freaking out on the inside. “Poe, do you-” Finn shuddered a breath in and out. “Do you _want_ to die?”

“What? No.” Finn looked relieved at the quickness of his answer. “I just...I could die now. Now that I’m 37.”

Finn’s brows furrowed, and Poe was reaching out his hand to place a thumb there, smooth away the wrinkles of worry, he really hated seeing Finn like that, when Finn’s expression cleared. “And your parents were 37. So you think you’re going to die this year?”

Poe’s eyes closed, but he nodded a little, glad someone had finally said it aloud.

“Poe, baby,” and the urgency in Finn’s voice had Poe’s eyes popping open again, “I need you to talk to someone about this. Someone who’s not me. Or Snap. Someone professional.”

In his drunken state, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

**7 months ago:**

Waking up to that hangover last month, the last thing Poe had wanted to do was seek a therapist. Finn, though, had thought of this, and had printed the listings of twenty therapists in the Salem area that dealt with grief. Poe had folded the list meticulously, tucking it in his wallet.

Poe did have to give Finn credit. He didn’t nag about calling anyone. He didn’t push. He didn’t cajole. But every time Finn touched him, or kissed him, or made love to him, it was there, in Poe’s mind. _Finn needs me to do this. Finn does so much for me, and he needs me to do this one thing._ It eventually worked as a prod.

It took Poe a week to come up with the courage to call someone, after having researched them all on the internet.

It took Poe three calls before he decided he could leave a message.

It took one instance of phone tag, when Poe had been paralyzed at the therapist’s number flashing on his screen, to set up the appointment.

It took all of his courage to put his pickup in park, slide the key out, and open the door.

It took ten minutes with Dr. Charles to realize he’d made the right decision.

**6 months ago:**

It was midday, and he found Leia in her kitchen, knocked briefly on the door jam so as not to startle her. She turned, smiling, holding up her tea kettle with an inquiring brow. He smiled back, nodding, and took a place at the kitchen table that had been there longer than he’d been alive.

“How’s Amelia doing, the poor dear?” Leia asked as she put the full kettle on the stove and turned on the gas.

“No throw up since last night, so that’s good. Blood sugar back to normal. Thanks for letting Meghan stay here last night so she wouldn’t catch it, too.”

Leia’s mouth tipped up on one side. “How hard did Finn try to convince you to quarantine yourself, too?”

Poe laughed a little. “Not hard enough, obviously. I never get sick - it’s Finn we should all be worried about.”

“Don’t tempt fate, Poe.” She began to pull together the makings for a sandwich.

“Hippie,” he said, teasing.

She merely arched a brow at him as she got the mustard out of the fridge. “Now, did you need me for farm business? I looked at the finalized numbers for last quarter, and I must say, I’m happy every day I took you on as my farm manager.”

Poe blushed a little, pleased at the praise. “Actually, no, I-” He was interrupted by the singing kettle, and he stood to take care of it as Leia continued to make her lunch. “What kind did you want?”

“Mmmm, how about peppermint?”

Poe prepared two cups, though honestly he would have preferred a shot of coffee at the moment. Drinking tea was part of the process with Leia, though, and he didn’t mind. He set the cups on the table, and Leia set roast beef sandwiches in front of both of them. “Oh, you didn’t have to-”

Leia sat and placed a hand over Poe’s across the table. “Allow a mother hen to fuss every once and awhile, Poe.” She withdrew her hand only when he had nodded, picking up his sandwich with his free hand. “What were you saying?”

Poe swallowed a bite of the sandwich, wiping away mustard with his finger. “My therapist,” he hesitated slightly, still nervous about having to use present tense terms, “asked me last time if there was anyone I felt comfortable talking about my parents with. And I came to the conclusion that… that person was you. First. That if I could talk about them with you, maybe I could talk about them to other people…like Finn.”

Leia’s smile was warm and nostalgic. “Was there anything you wanted to talk about in particular?”

“Tell me about when you first met them.” Poe took a sip of the tea, watching Leia expectantly.

“Well, your mother and father, Han and I, we all had some fun times here on the farm - no, not fun adult times like you’re thinking. Shara and Kes were very much monogamous, just like you and Finn.” Leia laughed as Poe turned red again. “Okay, so, Kes, I met first. He just walked up the driveway one day, asking if we had work. His English wasn’t as good back then, but we still managed to communicate with each other. Before I could answer, he showed me just how quickly he could weed a row of plants, and I hired him on the spot.” Leia looked away from Poe for a moment, as if deciding if she really wanted to go forward with what she was saying. “I see a lot of Kes in you, Poe. If he’d been around when I needed to slow down, needed to take on less duties, he’d have been my choice for farm manager.”

Poe nodded, eyes filling with unshed tears. He flicked them away, then motioned for Leia to go on. “I’m okay, really.”

“I didn’t meet Shara until our first big barn party after we hired Kes. She’d been trying to square away a child care situation for you, of course. She brought you that night, oh, you must have been about five, all floppy curls and a wide grin. And when you went off to play with Ben, who was just in that stage where walking had turned to running everywhere, Shara and I bonded over motherhood. Your mother was a spitfire, Poe. She never let Kes puff up with too much machismo, she was an expert at deflating him. And she loved you so much, couldn’t stand to leave you in the hands of someone she hadn’t thoroughly checked out. I offered to let her bring you here, let you run around with Ben and the other farm kids. I was always sad when the Damerons followed the crops to Arizona or Southern California for the winter.” She reached out again and squeezed Poe’s hand. “Was that okay?”

Poe nodded, still choked up. “Um, would you mind doing this again tomorrow?  You could come to my place, and I could fix you a sandwich this time.”

“I’d love that.” Leia smiled, running a thumb over Poe’s knuckles.

**5 months ago:**

Finn was waiting for him outside his law office, tucked under an awning to avoid the rain. He had a bouquet of out-of-season wildflowers, an array of colors, tucked under one arm. Poe saw the moment Finn spotted him, spotted his truck, because the tiniest smile crossed his husband’s lips. _Fuck, I’m lucky_ , he thought for the umpteenth time in the last few years. Things weren’t quite settled between them yet, there was still some mistrust on Finn’s side when he felt like maybe Poe was hiding his feelings or thoughts from him. Poe didn’t blame him, and he was working on it, truly.

Finn rushed to pull open the truck’s door, sliding in before everything could get wet. He set the flowers on the bench seat between them. “I thought that they might like something cheery, something that looks like Spring even when it’s rainy out,” he explained, a question in his voice.

“I think they’re perfect,” Poe said, reaching out a hand to caress Finn’s shoulder.

When they arrived, Poe pulled an umbrella from the truck door and hustled around to Finn, bundling him under with him. They walked, arm in arm, to the spot that Poe had never been brave enough to bring Finn to before.

Poe had had to make a lot of decisions about his parents’ funerals from Afghanistan, and as a result had relied heavily on Leia and Han to help. But he’d been confident in his choice to put their names together on the same tombstone, of red granite, with their different birth dates but same death date. February 17.

Finn lay the flowers in front of the stone, touching the top of it reverently when he came back up. “Thank you for him. He’s everything I needed. Thank you for making him who he is.”

“Los amo, mi madre, mi padre. Los amo.”

Poe slipped his arm around Finn and they stood there as the raindrops plopped against the umbrella.

**4 months ago:**

_“If it takes you awhile, sweetie, it’s okay. If you think you’ve moved past it, and then you realize you haven't quite, it’s okay. We’ll still be here for you. It’s never a step backwards, never a step in the wrong direction, to realize you still need a little help.”_

The moment he said those words to Finn over Meghan’s head, their world began to click back together for him.

**3 months ago:**

It was shortly after the trip back from Washington that Meghan approached him while Finn was reading Amelia to sleep. He put down the paperwork, really, the farm seemed to have endless paperwork, and focused his attention on her. She looked nervous.

“Dad, uh. I was just wondering, if things are going better now?” She handed him one of his old appointment cards for Dr. Charles that he must have left around somewhere. “Because you don’t really have to hide it from me, or Amelia. We’re both pretty accepting of therapy.” Her mouth gave a little sardonic twist.

Poe let the card play between his hands, then set it on the coffee table and focused back on Meghan. If he wanted her to be open with them when she was hurting, he needed to do the same. “My parents were killed by a drunk driver eighteen years ago.” Even two months before, that sentence would have taken several tries to get through. Now, it didn’t freeze his lips. “I’ve never really dealt with their deaths, and that spiraled out of control this year, because they died at my age.”

“‘Poe’s having a hard year,’ that’s what Jess said.”

He patted her knee gently. “Not so hard. I’ve got you, after all. And Finn. And Amelia made a friend.”

Meghan laughed. “I’m not sure if Molly is a friend or the other half to Amelia’s coin.”

Poe joined her, enjoying her smartass attitude, glad to see it return after March’s events.

She was looking out the window, to the dark of their backyard, and straightened. “You know what, Dad?  We should plant something for them.  Something more permanent than flowers or vegetables but something pretty.”

“I love that idea, Megs,” Finn said as he walked back down the stairs. “Maybe something for my dad, too?”

It surprisingly took very little organizing to figure out what they wanted to do. The next Saturday, Finn, Poe, and Snap ceremoniously dug three holes as the rest of the farm family watched (or in the case of Amelia, tried to help). They placed bare root trees in the holes: a pear tree, for Kes, who had loved the land and the produce more than just a job; a cherry tree, for Shara, who had liked to pick the blossoms and weave them into her hair to surprise Kes; and a dogwood for Findley, because even without their flowers, dogwoods stood strong and stoic. Every member of the family helped lift dirt over the roots, Finn helping Anne when she burst into tears over the sight of everyone honoring Findley in such a way.

Later that summer, Poe would catch Finn and Snap grunting as they moved a sturdy metal and wood park bench under what would eventually be the shade of the trees. And in the years to come, every time the trees blossomed, the Smith-Damerons would take a family portrait, right there on the bench.

**2 months ago:**

Leia’s birthday was a loud, boisterous affair, with all of the farm family gathered in one place, Elisa and Snap on their toes as Luis was just learning to walk, Amelia seeming to have forgotten the rule to not run in the house, and Leia and Anne pouring over Meghan’s latest art from school. Poe leaned against the living room entrance way and laughed, more than he had since last July. Finn joined him, drawn like a moth to his laugh, wrapping his arms around Poe. “What’s so funny, sir?”

“Us,” Poe replied, waving an arm around the room of happy, distracted people. “We’re like the United Colors of Benetton in here.”

Finn shifted to stand beside him, observing everything, and laughed with Poe. “We’re certainly diverse, I’ll give you that.”

**1 month ago:**

When Finn found him in the cucumber rows, his first thought was that something was wrong. Except Finn’s face was practically split open from his smile. Poe took a slow breath in and out to quell the immediate panic reaction, but couldn’t stop himself from immediately asking as Finn got closer, “Is everything okay?”

Finn looked out of place in his lawyer suit amid the cucumber vines. “Can you make time to go to our spot? Nothing’s wrong, but I have a surprise for you.”

Finn’s excitement was infectious, and he radioed Snap that he was taking his lunch break, grabbing Finn’s hand and leading them away from the fields.

Under the shade of the trees, Finn sat Poe down on their bench. “Are we here to neck? Because it’s a surprise that you played hookie from work to do so, but I love this type of surprise.”

But Finn didn’t join him on the bench. Instead he pulled out a torn envelope from inside his suit. “Necking can come later. And I’ll hold you to that. This was meant to be a birthday present, but it came today and I can’t wait until next month.” He thrust the envelope into Poe’s hands.

Confused, Poe opened it slowly, eyes darting up to Finn’s when he saw the official seal of the US Army. He unfolded the letter and scanned quickly. _Poe Dameron_ … _Less than honorable discharge struck from record… veteran in good standing status officially begins as of the date of this letter… we congratulate you._

“What...what?” Poe sputtered.

Finn did sit now, excited. “Because Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was revoked, I decided to see if there was something we could do to get your status changed. Turns out, paperwork, but I’m a lawyer, so no sweat. So, happy early birthday?” Finn stared at Poe, expectant and hopeful.

He was not expecting Poe’s tackling hug. The official papers went flying as Poe pressed Finn to the back of the bench, whispering mostly nonsense as he showered Finn with kisses.

Finn’s hands on Poe’s head stopped him. He met Finn’s eyes. “Use your words, Poe,” Finn said in a lightly chastising tone.

“You’re amazing, absolutely the best husband I could ever ask for, I love it, and if we don’t get back to the celebrating, I might explode.” With a short chuckle he resumed his work on the sensitive spot beneath Finn’s ear, and Finn moaned.

Poe took an extended lunch.

**The present:**

Poe watched the living room clock tick down, holding his breath as it tipped over to midnight. Finn squeezed his hand, audibly exhaling. He brought Poe’s knuckles to his lips. “You made it.”

Poe felt as if his whole body might be made of love and gratitude for the man sitting next to him. “I made it.”

“Happy birthday, baby.” Finn stood, drawing Poe up the stairs with him, to celebrate the year in a more private place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you forgive me for writing a scene from School Day Blues from Poe's perspective, using the same dialogue.
> 
> An extra special thanks to @boozeleprechaun for suggesting that Poe's less than honorable discharge be fixed. I'm not actually sure if they can, but hey, this is my universe, so sure they can!
> 
> Thank you to @entrecomillas for helping me with my Spanish. :)


	4. Finn's Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We shall end with only the FLUFFIEST of FLUFF after the roller coaster of emotions that was the other birthdays. :)

Before kids, Finn had been the heavy sleeper of the couple. Then, when Amelia had joined them, Finn formed the habit of being asleep enough to get rest but awake enough to listen for her nightmares over the monitor. They’d been able to dispense with the monitor months ago because Amelia felt comfortable seeking them out if she needed it, but now sleeping lightly was Finn’s habit. When he got sick and took Nyquil to knock himself out for the night, he always felt slightly unsettled the morning after that something bad could have happened to one of his girls and he would have slept through it.

This was why, when Poe began to trace a finger delicately along his bare spine on the already warm July morning, Finn slipped from sleeping to consciousness without Poe even knowing. Finn lay on his stomach, arms up around his pillow, face toward their window, and sleepily hoped that Poe had remembered to close and lock the door if he was trying to start something. They’d asked Leia and Anne to take the girls after Poe’s birthday dinner, but if it was light, that meant it was possible for Amelia to interrupt them. She was the cutest damn cockblocker. 

He let himself indulge in the feel of Poe’s callused but nimble fingers tracing the lines of his body. It was not abnormal for Poe to become obsessed with Finn’s body after a night of Finn being dominant in bed. Finn thought of the silk scarf he’d used as a blindfold on Poe last night, of the ties that had kept Poe’s arms above him as Finn had controlled and taken and devoured. It had been Poe’s birthday request, and how could Finn do anything but indulge his strong husband for the amount of work he’d done on his own mind in the last year. He couldn’t properly express in words the pride he felt in Poe, but he hoped he’d gotten the point across last night. 

Poe’s fingers began to rub deeper, to massage his tense neck and back muscles, and Finn wondered if Poe knew he was awake. When Poe hit a particularly deep knot, Finn decided to leave the deception behind and gave in to a satisfied groan. “Poe,” he said on an exhale, long and drawn out as Poe began to massage in earnest.

“Good morning, Finn.” Finn felt Poe’s lips on the warm skin above the knot he’d just eased. “My love.” More kisses emphasizing the words.

The bed shifted as Poe rose over Finn’s body, and Finn made a move to turn over, but Poe protested by firmly pushing down on Finn’s shoulder. His whisper drifted into Finn’s ear. “Let me do this. After last night, after...everything, I want to- I need to repay you.”

“Believe me, baby, I’ve been paid in full.” But Finn lay back down, relaxing into Poe’s touches. He kept expecting Poe to dip lower, to turn the massage into an extension of last night’s play, but it seemed his husband was content with making Finn feel as boneless as possible.

With a final loving caress along Finn’s spine, Poe tapped his shoulder, and Finn turned over slowly to the sight of his husband leaning up on one elbow, eyes bright with happiness and desire, hair still tousled from the night, a mysterious yet sensual smile lighting up his face. It stole his breath, and the words tumbled out him. “I love you, Poe Dameron.”

“Thank God,” Poe replied, running his fingers over the slight morning stubble on Finn’s cheek. “I love you, too, Finn Smith.”

Finn closed his eyes, leaning a little into the caress. “Thank God.” He could happily exist in this moment forever. This moment of hanging potential, when neither of them had made a move toward making love but either of them could at any time. A moment of complete and utter contentment in the world, where nothing else could touch them.

“Where’d you go?” Poe’s voice was soft, still a little rough from last night.

Finn opened his eyes. “Very happily, nowhere. Just savoring here, now.”

Poe wrapped his arms around Finn, drawing him into an embrace that was not outwardly erotic for all that they were both naked and partially aroused. Their eyes were level with each other, their chests rising and falling together. “I have a very serious question to ask you, Mr. Smith,” Poe murmured, his lips’ brief smile betraying his earnestness. “Now that my birthday’s out of the way, you’ve got two months to decide what you’d like to do for yours.” Finn remained silent, for too long, apparently, because Poe rushed forward. “I’d just like - I’d like to make you as happy as you’ve made me. On your special day.”

Finn let a smile creep on his face. He had come a long way since the days of not wanting to celebrate his birthday. But last year, when the girls had been starting school, and Poe had been silently trying to deal with his issues by himself, Finn’s birthday had kind of been ignored. Oh, he’d gotten presents, of course, but it had sort of been a return to old habits, and Finn found that now he didn’t really want to celebrate. If he told Poe that, though, Poe would feel guilty for not making a big deal out of his birthday last year, and the last thing he wanted to do was remind Poe of the mental state he’d been in. He focused on Poe’s face, realized Poe was beginning to look increasingly vulnerable as Finn didn’t reply, and hurried to comfort him. “I’d like to do something, I just don’t know what.”

Poe draped an arm around Finn’s neck, drawing him close enough to kiss. “I know I didn’t do right by you for your last birthday.” For all that Poe and Finn had spent months not being able to communicate fully, it seemed like Poe was able to read his mind, now. “I’d like the chance to make up for it.”

Finn traced spirals on Poe’s back. “I’ll think about it, I promise.” 

“Well, you could always ask for suggestions,” Poe offered.

Finn half-laughed, then thought about it. “Actually, maybe I should. But right now, I don’t want to think about it.” He worked his head into the crook of Poe’s neck, and they lay there, content in each other’s presence until they heard the burst of chaos downstairs signalling their girls’ arrival home.

**Mary’s Suggestion**

“Are you telling me Poe Damn-You-Fine is giving you carte blanche for your birthday?” Mary had come to pick up Rigo, who’d spent the day with Meghan and Amelia. Finn had relented, and Meghan was caring for Amelia from noon until after work this summer. In exchange, she promised not to protest when Finn and Poe took her used car shopping. From the outside it was a weird compromise, but it worked for them. Rigo had come today to help, mostly by playing soccer with Amelia, who was missing her league. While Mary waited for the teenagers to finish chatting in Meghan’s room, she leaned on the kitchen counter, watching Finn prepare dinner. “Poe Fucking Dameron is saying, ‘I will do anything for you.’”

“Well, I mean, within our budget, obviously. Not like I’m going to ask to go to Paris or something.”

Mary shook her head sadly at him. “Finn, honey, why are you thinking money? Fancy dinners, new tech, whatever. That’s for Christmas.” She walked closer to him, lowering her voice. “Poe _Fucking_ Dameron is offering to do anything for you.  Or  _ to  _ you. You should be thinking bedroom, my friend.”

Finn laughed. “Well, that’s not out of the realm of possibility, that’s what Poe wanted this year.”

Mary picked up a random piece of mail off the counter and fanned herself. “You  _ know _ you cannot do that to me, Finn Smith-”

“What, I don’t get a cool middle name like ‘fucking’?”

She whacked him playfully on the arm with the letter. “Don’t drop hints about your sex life. My brain will short circuit. You are two are too damn sexy for me to be thinking about doing sexy things together.”

“What is it with straight girls and gay sex?” 

Mary shrugged. “Dunno. Just, whatever you do, take this opportunity.  For  _ me, _ Finn. Do it for me. Go fucking wild. And then don’t tell me about it afterwards or Edgar won’t sleep for a week.”

**Amelia and Meghan’s Suggestions**

Finn and Poe’s third anniversary was very unfortunately a market day, but to surprise his husband, Finn secretly took off from work, and he, Amelia, and Meghan prepared a picnic to carry over to the farm, so the four of them could eat as a family. As the girls began to unpack their food on one of the tables near the market building, Finn brought up his birthday. “What do you think I should do, ladies?”

Amelia’s eyes widened. She set down the bag of carrots she’d been holding and walked to him, grabbing his hand and looking up at him very seriously. “Daddy.”

She paused long enough that Finn prompted, “Yes?”

“Daddy. We. Could go. To Disneyland!” At the last word, her seriousness broke and she shook his hand up and down in excitement. “Molly’s grandparents took her to Disneyland for  _ her  _ birthday last year.”

Laughing, Finn opened a bag of chips to stall and think of a reply, but before he could, Meghan saved the day (or at least Finn) by grabbing Amelia from behind and swinging her around in a circle. Meghan set Amelia down, and she collapsed in giggles. Meghan rolled her eyes at Finn and he winked back.

“Hey, Ames, why don’t you go see if Dad is ready to take lunch. Or if he’s not, tell Nanalay to make him come out,” Meghan suggested, and Amelia was off. The teenager turned back to Finn. “You owe me. Although if you think that’s going to work to distract her in the long run, you should probably rethink that.” 

Finn gave an exaggerated sigh to make Meghan laugh, and she did. “I know.”

“I think for your birthday, you and Dad should take off, go do something on your own.” Meghan swept a hand at the picnic spread. “It’s not very romantic to spend your anniversary with your kids.”

Poe’s voice came from behind them, and Finn felt arms wrap around his middle as Amelia ran by to take a seat at the table. “Marriage isn’t just about romance, Meghan. Our family wouldn’t be possible if Finn had never agreed to marry me, so why can’t we celebrate that today?”

Meghan blushed a little, but smiled, so obviously pleased at what Poe had said but fighting her teenage embarrassment, then turned to fix a plate for Amelia and give them a moment of privacy. Finn took advantage and leaned into his husband’s embrace, settling in and relaxing as they watched their girls. Finn pitched his voice so they wouldn’t overhear. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll be getting lucky tonight.” 

“Mmm, already lucky.”

“Cheeseball.”

“Happy anniversary,” Poe whispered as he pressed a kiss below Finn’s ear.

“Daddies, come eat, Meghan and I made cookies! And we can talk about DisneyLand!”

“Happy anniversary,” Finn returned, laughing.

**Leia’s Suggestion**

“Have you and Poe ever tried tantric?”

**Anne’s Suggestion**

Finn made a sound that was something between a gasp, a cough, and a laugh. 

“What?” Leia said, innocently. “Han and I-”

“Stop!” Finn gasped.

“What’s tantric, is it one of those hipster restaurants in Portland?” Anne asked, looking between them both.

“Oh my god, this is not happening.” Finn ran a hand over his hair.

Leia and Anne looked at him with dual “What did I say?” faces. Leia broke, though, laughing and turning to Anne. “I’ll tell you later, Annie.”

Finn groaned. Leia and Anne had the strangest Felix and Oscar Odd Couple relationship. He did  _ not _ want to imagine Leia explaining sex methods to his straightedge mother.

Anne nodded, confused, then smiled at Finn. “Dinner in Portland, though, that would be nice. If you boys wanted to do that, we’d check in on the girls for you.”

**Snap and Elisa’s Suggestion**

Elisa accepted the cardboard boxes gratefully. “Thank you so much, Finn. Come on in.”

“No problem,” Finn said, walking inside the cottage. “The Law office always has lots of extra boxes for use.”

“We’re almost done with this part. Once I get the rest of Luis’ stuff packed up and over to the main house, they can start the expansion.”

“If the main house ever gets too crowded for you, you’re always welcome to come visit us.” Finn could handle Luis now that he was less a baby and more a little person who could kind of communicate what he wanted. “Anything I can do to help right now?”

“Keep me company until Snap gets back with lunch?  If I keep working on an empty stomach I may pass out.” Elisa collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. “Thank God my mom took Luis so I could finish this today. So what’s new with you?”

Finn leaned against the windowsill and smiled. “Well, Poe wants me to do something big for my birthday this year. I mean, I’m turning 29, not 30, so maybe it shouldn’t be too big…”

“Remember the surprise party we had for you a few years back?  We should do something like that again. Or better yet, a barn party. Oh man, I haven’t sung in forever,” she said as Snap walked in.

“I distinctly remember your beautiful voice in the shower this morning, Lis.” Snap set down take out boxes on the kitchen table, then leaned over to kiss Elisa. “But I do love a barn party.  What are we celebrating?”

**Poe’s Suggestion**

Finn sighed as he finished up the paperwork he needed for an arbitration meeting the next day. The Labor Day barbecue, which also served as a summer’s ending celebration for the seasonal farm staff,  was already in full swing in their backyard, which meant Finn’s birthday was less than two weeks away, and he’d still made no decision.

As soon as he left the house, Poe greeted him by placing a beer in his hand. Finn sighed again. “Poe, I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what, baby?” Poe said somewhat distractedly as he glanced around the party, probably trying to see if any literal or figurative fires needed to be put out.

“What I want to do on my birthday. The votes came out tied for wild sex or a date night for the two of us.”

The ‘wild sex’ comment got Poe’s attention, and the grin on his face was downright sinful, Finn thought. “Well those could be combined easily enough.” He waggled his brows.

Finn grinned, bumping into him with his shoulder companionably. “Oh yeah, and Disneyland, don’t forget Disneyland.”

“So you’re telling me you’d like to have wild sex while on a date night at Disneyland.  Got it. Did you have a thing for Aladdin growing up too?”

This time Finn laughed, he couldn’t help it. “I’d  _ like _ to spend it like a normal Saturday with you guys. Market in the morning, playing around with Amelia in the afternoon, talking with Meghan in the evening, and then, you know, the wild sex. Or the normal sex. Whatever.”

Poe looked him in the eyes. “If it’s what you want, babe, then it sounds perfect to me.”

**Finn’s Birthday**

Buli twitched her tail, sniffing the air as she padded through the living room and down the front hall. Her pride was all gone, had been gone for hours. Normally when she woke up from her second afternoon nap, the Tall Ones were home and making food for the Short Ones. 

She scampered up the stairs to check their dens, even though she could hear no one. The Master’s bedroom was empty. Thinking of the Master made Buli purr a little. He was the first member of her pride, the first thing she could remember. The Master had been very happy recently, Buli could smell it. Maybe that was because the Master’s mate, Curls, had been spending more time in bed with the Master and less time on the couch downstairs. 

The Pale One’s bedroom was similarly empty.  She was the newest of their pride, and Buli could sense that she wasn’t really a cat person. She gave Buli nice pets when Buli rubbed her legs, though, so it was okay.

Buli saved the best for last, hopping up on the Little One’s bed to sniff in comfort. The Master may be her oldest pridemate, but Buli loved Little One the best. Buli purred again, then circled herself into a tight ball on the bedspread. She hoped her pride would be home soon.

It was dark when Buli woke to the sound of a car outside. She stood, stretching, then raced downstairs to listen for which door her pride would be coming in.  The front door! 

When it opened, Buli was sitting there, meowing and ready for pets. She was disappointed when it wasn’t a member of her pride, though it was several members of Buli’s list of Approved Others.  Buli would not need to run and hide.

The others greeted Buli, and bundled some packages into the living room.  Buli sniffed them, making sure they didn’t contain any surprises that might hurt her pride. The others began unpacking, and Buli was shooed away several times when she tried to cheek-mark the contents. Sullen, she sat and shot a leg out to wash herself. 

Another car! Buli ran back to the front door, waiting patiently. She sniffed. Yes!  That was Little One, just there on the other side of the door. She meowed loudly in greeting as the door finally opened and her whole pride came through. She nimbly stepped out of the way of Pale One, who was also carrying packages, and Little One picked her up, and Little One was whispering her name and telling her she was a good girl and Buli was kneading in ecstasy. Over Little One’s shoulder, she saw Curls come in, holding the door open for the Master. The Master was not alone, though. He was holding the hand of a small one, smaller than Little One, and Buli could smell the fear coming off of this new small one in waves from here.

“It’s okay, Caleb. You’re going to be staying with us for a while, okay?” Master said.  Reluctantly, the new small one stepped over the threshold. Buli would have to verify his scent, add him to the list of Approved Others, but that could come later. Right now, she rubbed her head into Little One’s neck, Buli’s scent on her distressingly light because she’d been gone all day.

As Little One carried Buli back to the living room, petting her all the while, Buli heard Curls say to the Master, “How was that for a normal Saturday? Happy birthday, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding that last part, I realized there was one last Smith-Dameron who needed to narrate. :)
> 
> A sort-of cliffhanger?!?!? On Organa's Organics? Ruh roh!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I will love and appreciate any kudos and comments I receive. I'm happy to be back on the farm and I hope you guys are too after our short hiatus.
> 
> I can be found @animalasaysrauer on tumblr, where I mostly reblog Stormpilot, Hamilton, and Captive Prince stuff, and sometimes post my own musings on being a teacher. Or a writer. Or both. Also I'm a nerdfighter, so DFTBA. :)


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